Into the Weirdness
by Aquabreeze93
Summary: A story version of a popular script fic by the same name. Another random, crazy Warriors parody. You know you want to read it.


**Hey guys… so, the script version of Into the Weirdness got deleted. I figured it was only a matter of time. But I'm not going to let this story die, so I give you… a story version! With Dialogue! Exposition! Quotes! And Descriptive-ness…ness! The story being deleted gives me a chance to correct the inconsistencies and bad writing from the old chapters. Or just make fun of it. Yay! So behold, chapter 1… in story format!! -dramatic music-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors, E-Mail, Text Messaging, Instant Messaging, Shakespeare, American Idol, Arnold Schwarzenegger or the color red. If I did, then I'd be a really old genius with talent-casting and producing skillz. I'd also be three people living in Britan. But I am none of the above. (except maybe a genius…)**

Into the Weirdness

Chapter 1: Random Toms and Laptops

The StarClan cats gathered around their camp, the stars reflecting on their pelts. A large brown tabby tom had called a meeting. Once all the glittering cat spirits had assembled the tom spoke in a very official and epic-y sounding voice. "Cats of StarClan, I call upon you to pass on a message to the cats of Thunderclan, Riverclan, Shadowclan and Windclan."

A dusky gray she-cat with orange flecks and piercing blue eyes hustled forward, carrying every sort of electronic device. "Should the prophecy be text message, e-mail, or instant message, Howlstar?" She asked hurriedly.

"Which one sounds the most epic and holy and stuff?" said Howlstar in a clumsy manner.

The she-cat thought for a moment. "E-mail, I guess," she answered.

"Ok, then. E-mail."

The voice of a longhaired black Tom with a big bushy tail was heard through the crowd. "Make the writing of the e-mail look all bloody and spooky and… red!"

All of StarClan gasped at once.

"Never, Friskytail!" boomed Howlstar. "Red is evil for no particular reason whatsoever."

"Sheesh, you're weird," mumbled Friskytail.

"Not as weird as you, because you're normal," retorted Howlstar. "Brightpool! Prepare the E-Mail!"

Brightpool opened her laptop, and after a few moments of clicking, pulled up a new e-mail and placed her paws on the keys. She paused, looking sort of dumbfounded. The she-cat turned to look at Howlstar. "…what do I say?"

"Um, how about, 'Fire will bring nightlife back to the forest?'" Howlstar Suggested.

"Good idea! That forest has been total snoozeville for like, ever!" Blurted a gray she-cat named Darkcloud.

"Totally!" Chorused StarClan.

Brightpool silently typed the prophecy in. "Okay, It's ready," she alerted the clan.

"Alrighty then," said Howlstar. "Send it, in the name of all things that are small and crunchy and taste like chicken!"

"Yes, O Master of Stupidity," said Brightpool sarcastically. She hit the send button.

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The sun shown down on the Thunderclan Medicine Cat's Den as a new day began. Spottedleaf breathed in the morning sunshine, but then in walked Bluestar.

"Yo, Dr. Spotty! I hear you received an E-mail from StarClan," she said loudly and carelessly.

Spottedleaf acted very dramatic as she responded. "Indeed, O great Leader Bluestar. It is quite mysterious-making. It makes one wonder if they shall ever fulfill their true dreams…"

"Cut the Shakespeare, Dr. Spotty, and read the e-mail," Bluestar interrupted in an impatient voice.

"As thee wish. Behold the script- er, message." She cleared her throat, and read the prophecy aloud. "Yo, all you cool cat clans out there! We have a new prophecy that must be fulfilled in the name of all things that are small and crunchy and taste like chicken. Fire will, like, totally bring the nightlife back to the forest! Holla! g2g!"

"Finally! This place has been snoozeville since the last prophecy was fulfilled!" said Bluestar.

"What didst said previous prophecy foretell? 'A tail of scary redness will be stepped on by a new true blue leader'?"

"Yeah. I hope it's not real fire that saves the clan. It's hot!"

"Dost thou mean good hot, as in fine and cute? Like that of Lionheart?" Spottedleaf sighed, her voice twinged with lovesickness.

"No, Spottedleaf. Bad hot, as in that burning sensation you get on your tail on a hot day in Greenleaf."

"Ah. I seest what thou means."

Suddenly, a beeping sound permeated the otherwise silent air.

"Omigosh!" exclaimed Bluestar. "I got to get to Fourtrees! American Caterwauling is holding auditions!"

"As thee wish. Farewell, Bluestar." Spottedleaf acknowledged as the Thunderclan leader hurried out of the den. "Hmph. I doth prefer "Prey or no Prey" myself," she mumbled.

"'Ello. I am Arnold Tigernator," proclaimed a flamboyant brown tom, marching into the den like it was his own.

Spottedleaf groaned. "How now, Tigerclaw?"

"I am not Tigerclaw. I am Arnold Tigernator, the Future Governator of Thunderclan, and a really stupid furbuilding cat," said the Tom, whose name was apparently Tigerclaw.

"If thou please, wouldst thou please tell me something that which I do not know?" retorted Spottedleaf.

"Well, you see, it is I who will be a diabolical plan creator cat who will do bad things. The first step in my diabolical plan is to kill Redtail in battle, then-" Tigerclaw rambled.

"I believest thy words, Tigerclaw. NOT. Now, unless thou wishest to spend the day cleaning and Detickifying the old geezers with Cheese Whiz again, then might I suggest you get your stupid little furry self out."

"I am a furbuilder. I do not do apprentice jobs. So I shall leave." He turned to leave, than shot an over-the-top dramatic glance at Spottedleaf. "I'll be back!" he spat.

"I care not, Tigerclaw. Goeth away."

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It was a sunny morning in Twolegplace.

"Ooooooh! Look at the pretty forest! Oooooooooooooooooooooooh!" exclaimed an orange tom kitten who looked a lot like a principal character. He sat in the backyard of his home, looking at the forest beyond it, which sparkled like a jungle in the morning sun.

"Rusty! Dinnertime!" called a distant Twoleg voice. "Does the pwitty kitty want his foody woody? Yes he does! Yes he does!" it cooed.

"No, I don't." retorted Rusty. He was then suddenly distracted by a mouse that randomly decided to pass close to his feet. "Yay! A mouse!" exclaimed the kitten. He lamely swiped at it with one paw, and missed. The omen-tastic mouse escaped into the forest. "Darn! There it goes. I will follow the mouse into the woods for no particular reason!" Rusty shouted.

A Black-and-white head popped up over a fence. "Oh, no! Rusty! Don't go into the big, bad forest! It's scary! Wah! I want my mommy!" said the cat, sucking his paw.

"You're weird," said Rusty.

"Henry caught a bird in the woods once," said the other cat matter-of-factly, whose name was Smudge.

"Smudge, I saw what happened. The bird died and it fell on Henry's head when he was right outside the forest. And besides, how is that supposed to convince me not to go in there?"

"It's been nice knowing you, Rusty!" Smudge said before running away crying.

Without another moment's hesitation, Rusty walked into the forest. "Ooh! The forest is nnniiice!" he said, nodding his head in approval.

"Fear me!" shouted a random voice.

"Aaaaaahhhh!" screamed Rusty with a hiss.

A Gray Tabby by the name of Graypaw, that looked a lot like Rusty's future best friend, emerged from the trees and attacked him. An epic battle ensued. So epic, that the author was too lazy to go into any detail about it.

"Oof!"

"Ouch!"

"Owie!"

"Eeep!"

Rusty began to prove the better fighter, and knocked Graypaw into a rock. He became dazed, and started shouting names of funny-sounding Twoleg things that he somehow knew even though he'd never been outside the forest in his life.

"Cauliflower!" he said, staggering forward. Rusty turned over and thrust Graypaw into a tree with his back legs.

"Daiiiisssiiiesss!" yelled Graypaw, flying backwards. He landed headfirst into the tree and was unconscious.

"Gotta get out of here!" exclaimed Rusty.

Coincidentally, Graypaw woke up, no longer dazed, and jumped in front of Rusty, suddenly deciding to be friendly with him. "Hi! I'm Graypaw! Are you a Kittypet?" he asked.

"Huh? What's a Kittypet?"

"What are you doing on Thunderclan territory?" Graypaw rambled.

"Thunderclan?"

Graypaw continued to ramble about things that Rusty didn't understand, until two other voices echoed through the trees. Pawsteps began to rumble on the ground. The Author continued to build description and dramatic tension.

"Oh no! More cats are coming! Hide!" Graypaw ran around in circles, panicking.

"Graypaw! Who is this?" Bluestar spoke in a high-and-mighty voice as she and a model-esque golden tom entered the clearing.

"Eep! Bluestar!" shouted Graypaw with a hyper jump.

"I hope you're happy, Graypaw! I'm missing "American Caterwauling" auditions because of you!" she spat.

"Sorry," Graypaw said clumsily. His voice picked up again. "Meet Rusty! Who's name I suddenly know even though he actually never told me his name!!!"

"Hi." Squeaked Rusty.

"So, guess what, Bluestar? Rusty defeated me in Battle!!!"

"OMGFORREALZ?!?" screeched Bluestar.

"YARLY!!!" Graypaw screeched back.

Rusty's fur fluffed out at the sudden screeching.

"Dee-hee-hee. Firey Cat go all fluffy," said the gold Tom.

"…Lionheart, have you been drinking again?" said Bluestar. "…Wait, did you say " 'Firey'? Like the prophecy? That only Dr. Spotty and I are supposed to know about?"

"Dee-heeee…"

"…Clan Cats can get drunk?" Rusty Asked.

"Oh yeah. We mix Rainwater with Royal Jelly, Honey, Catnip and Poppy Seeds. It's better than those bottles Twolegs drop on the ground," Graypaw explained.

"Orly?" Rusty inquired.

"Yarly… hey! You speak chatspeak?!" Bluestar asked, as Lionheart staggered into a patch of Poison Ivy.

"…Yahso?"

"Chatspeak is the ancient clan language! Any cat who knows it is a true clan cat!" She exclaimed.

"Srsly?"

"Srsly. So, how would you like to join Thunderclan?"

"…lolwut?"

**End of Chapter 1… THE STORY EDITION!!!!! Hope you enjoyed! Chapter 2 coming… at a certain point… and oh yeah, in the Immortal words of Sokka…**

_**(Water Tribe)**_


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